Above: RE-ENACTMENT
A very bizarre incident happened upon me the other day. I never would have expected such a wrench to be thrown in my direction. It all started out so normal, too. Luckily, I survived to tell about it...
Indeed, the morning was quite usual. On my way to work, I stopped by Central Market for a cup of coffee, a bagel, and some kind of delectable pasta salad for lunch. Fortunately, I remembered I had a dentist appointment at 1pm. If I ate prior to leaving for said appointment, I would loose as little time to work as possible. After all, I do have that really big project deadline approaching rapidly. Though it was getting a bit stressful, I had really been enjoying seeing our Visitor Center in Maryland design through completion. With a little over a week left before the big pseudo-100% construction documents deadline, there is still very much to do.
Anyhow, at about 12:30, I begrudgingly headed out to the office of Dr. Goodale, D.D.S. to have a cavity filled. The procedure went swimmingly. I hadn't needed a filling in about ten years or so. It was much easier than I remember, but that probably has something to do with advancements in technology - especially a little thing called an iPod which contributed to my goal of totally zoning out as planned.
By 1:30 I was back in the car, my mouth, cheek, and tongue still relaxed with numbness. I decided it would be the best use of time to run by Whole Foods and pick up something to eat later. I intended to work until around 8 or 9 that evening. A brand new episode of Project Runway would be airing on Bravo about then, and I wanted to do enough work to deserve the break. At Whole Foods I recognized that I was outrageously thirsty - most likely from all the saliva and dental smuck vacuuming by the dentist - but decided not to buy a bottle of water there. In a few minutes I would be back at the office and could have all the water I wanted for free.
It just so happened that NPR (where my car's radio dial is permanently tuned), was broadcasting live a speech being delivered by none other than that horrendous joke we call President. He was going on and on about the "necessary" measures being taken to prevent further terrorist attacks and how righteous it is to utilize methods (of torture) with the suspected terrorist being held captive at Guantanamo. Judging by his chosen rhetoric, it was obvious that this speech was some kind of politically-motivated spin to help endorse whatever 5-year anniversary celebration he and the other's in the evil nexus have planned for September 11th. I found it deceptive, repulsive, and just God Damn enraging.
I parked my car in the usual lot a block away from the office downtown. Before hoping out, I noticed on my back seat sat a hard hat. I borrowed it from the office to go on a site visit last Fall that required head protection. For months, I had forgotten to return it. In my head, I declared proudly that I would FINALLY be taking it back to the hard hat box in the basement. The hat made for a rather convenient tote, as I placed my pre-packaged pesto tortellini, coconut-crusted chicken tenders, and iPod safely within it's padded, red plastic interior. And with that, I set off of my one block journey to the office. Never in a million years would I have expected not to make it.
I was unquestionably determined. I was parched, eager to get back to work, and recall viciously contemplating what a sorry excuse for a president our country had. I walked along the side of the San Antonio Express News building, which is directly across from my office, and came to the corner. Because of the street's layout, those who make this walk from the parking lot to the office twice daily, happily ignore the crosswalk. There is good visibility in both directions so on-coming traffic can generally be seen. I should really stress the word - generally - in that last sentence...
What happened next is somewhat murky. I remember hearing an extremely loud screeching of tires. I sort of remember the sensation of my body being lifted off the ground and the sound it made as it tumbled across the hood of a car. There was some kind of yelling from inside the vehicle, although at the time, I didn't realize exactly who was yelling or why they were yelling or that it had anything to do with me. And I recall that at some point the screeching came to a stop as the car halted abruptly. My body rolled off the front end of the car and plummeted to meet the asphalt below.
I don't think any time elapsed. My first visual memory of the incident was staring at the car that hit me. Even now I am startled by my initial response and then haunted by my reaction that followed. I recall gaining my bearings by propping myself up on the pavement. I actually said aloud in a very matter-of-fact tone, "Oh my God. I was just hit by a car." Then, likely from the rush of adrenaline, I let out a harrowing bellow of complete terror at what just occurred. It was unquestionably the most frightened moment in my life I remember experiencing. What's stunning is that I had this very logical acknowledgment of the misfortune, before my instincts took over. Its as though I fell into a brief period of acceptance before complete freaking the fuck out.
Before I knew it, I was surrounded by others. The first person I recognized was Jonathan Card, an architect that I work with at Lake|Flato. He had been in the garage when he heard the screech and rushed to my side. There was another man suddenly there with Jonathan, who helped moved me to the sidewalk. I later found out that he is the Editor-in-Chief of the Express News, who happened to be in his building's lobby when I was hit. He called the police and an ambulance.
More of my co-workers began to filter outside. I could see them across the street filing out of the office front door. The police arrived shortly and at that point I felt overwhelmed by the commotion. I could hear one of the officers question the couple whose car and I had collided. They were an elderly African-American husband and wife. They seemed to have limited mobility themselves as they staggered about completely mortified by what they had done.
I was feeling hazy as the other officer questioned me to determine my condition. "Sir, can you tell me your name," he asked in the calmest tone possible.
"Bendamin Winn," I stated affirmatively. And then I realized my face was still numb from the dentist visit.
"Sir, can you tell me what day of the week is it?"
Though it seems silly now, I was really concerned at the time they wouldn't understand me. I clutched my jaw, "my mout is numb", I said propping myself up, "I jut went to da den..."
He jumped to conclusions, "Your mouth is numb? Did you hit your head at all?!"
I honestly wasn't sure what had hit where at that point, but new for certain why my face was numb. "I jut got back fwumb da dentist," I muttered.
Again, I confused him unintentionally. "Did they give you any medications? Is that why you crossed the street in front of the car?"
"Noooo...," I laid back down, beginning to feel weak.
The officer attempted to maintain my attention. "Benjamin, do you know who the president is?"
The question was devastating, and I thought about my answer very cautiously. Of course, I new who the president was! I knew I should just answer the stupid question, but due to the the fact that my final pre-impact thoughts were evoking scorn towards Dubya, I groaned, "He not my pwesident!"
"Do you know his name?"
"Da former gobernor!"
I think the cop rolled his eyes or at least I would have if I realized how obnoxious I was being with someone clearly trying to help me. However, in my delirium, I was totally amused by this.
My co-worker (and direct supervisor) - Heather Degrella, brought me some much needed water to drink. The EMTs arrived and immediately took it from me. They explained that I shouldn't ingest anything incase I needed surgery - this was a daunting thought. They secured my head in some kind of brace and I lost sight of everything going on around me.
I heard another one of my co-workers say something about collecting my things which were not surprisingly scattered about the street. There was the iPod, my dinner, and the extreme irony that I had been HOLDING A HARDHAT in my arms when I got hit bit a car. I also asked about my shoes since by that point I realized they were not on my feet. I frequently wear these slip-on leather sandals which are perfect for every occasion. I was not at all shocked that they flew off given the situation, but no one could fathom why only one was found at the accident scene.
The EMTs made preparations to take me away. I had control over all my extremities, but still wasn't certain of my condition. As they secured my entire body in some kind of plastic encasing, David Lake (as in Lake|Flato Architects) arrived and insisted they do everything possible. I knew he was right, but whined about having no medical insurance. He said not to worry about it and that he'd take care of everything. Then, for the first time in my life, I was loaded into the back of an ambulance.
It was really strange. Sure, yes - getting trampled by a car and needing an ambulance sure the hell is strange. But what I mean is, one of the EMTs said, "Oh hey, you're gonna be on TV!"
Apparently, getting hit by a car on a Wednesday afternoon in downtown San Antonio warranted news cameras. That's right. They conveniently happened to be inside the Express News building. II didn't notice them though because of the contraption that encapsulated my head. Thus, I had no clue they were even there. Regardless, I heard later that I made the 5 o'clock news: OBLIVIOUS PEDESTRIAN GETS HIT BY AN OLDSMOBILE. Soooo newsworthy.
Anyway, I had no idea what the EMT was talking about. I assumed he must have meant that they just that morning installed some kind of Ambulance-CAM - perhaps a "black box" sort of concept. A stretch definitely, but I had no other context to go on. This is why the one who inserted my IV shot me the inquisitive expression as I responded dryly, "I've always wanted to be on ER."
Heather D hopped in the back of the ambulance with me for the short ride to the hospital. We enlightened the EMTs as to where they could find descent food for their lunch breaks. This conversation continued as they unloaded me out of the ambulance and rolled me over to a secluded corner of the exam room.
Despite it all, I was in good spirits. A nurse came to check up on me and meaning well said, "Boy, you sure are having an unlucky day!"
"Are you kidding," I chided, "This is the luckiest day of my life." It's totally true, too. The Doctor confirmed it a little later. I was alive. I wasn't paralyzed. I somehow managed not to hit my noggin which would have resulted in a concussion. I had no internal bleeding. And, I am still one of the few people I know who have never broken a bone. Of course, I had my share of bruises and was told to expect a lot of soreness. The good Doctor was kind enough to prescribe some Vikadin. Always a pleasure.
During my long wait to be discharged from the hospital, I pondered the events that put me their in the first place. This is what I think happened: Clearly, I was distracted. But I did look both ways before crossing the street. At the corner, I looked to the left to see that it was clear. I turned the corner, heading in the direction of the office door. There was a car coming from the right and I delayed crossing until it passed, but I continued walking in the same direction down the sidewalk. When the street was clear - or thought it was clear - I stepped into the road without checking to the left again. It had only been a few seconds! Why in the world would I assume that in this short span of time, Mr. and Mrs. Charles Washington would have turned in their large, cumbersome Oldsmobile? They in turn, wondered why in the world I gave no indication that I would be stepping into the road. Thankfully, they were only going about 20 miles per hour which undoubtedly minimized my injuries.
Some might say I'm paticularly accident prone. I would counter that with a positive spin - I'm resilient. I realize of course, that resilience works in tandum with calamity.
At some point in all that Vicki arrived. She had the foresight to check the gift shop to see if they had flip-flops or slippers. I was, after all, still shoeless. I joked with her, "If there was a lesson to be learned in all this it's that the Universe was trying to tell me it's time for some new shoes!"
Of course there's more to it then that - appreciate every moment, cherish every breath, delight in the love we all share with one another. As I was lucky enough to be reminded at least once more - I could be hit by a bus, blown up by a terrorist, or have an unfortunate run-in with a stingray when I least expect it. So can you.
And now for your viwing pleasure (or disgust) - some gory battle wounds:
I swear it's not eye shadow - though I'll admit, it really brings out my natural complexion. Since I did not hit my head or face in the impact, this shiner is a bit of a mystery. My best guess is that its from my sunglasses.
This abrasion is on my elbow - I was wearing a T-shirt that day, so my knees, which took the brunt of my fall received only minor scrapes through my jeans.
And this is the nasty one - also quite inexplicable. I have a rather serious burn on the back of my right calf. I'll spare you the unpleasant details, but it's now healing up splendidly.
